


In Comedy & Murder

by afangirlsplaylist



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Asphyxiation, Knives, M/M, Murder, Rape, Smut, mention of drugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9582980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afangirlsplaylist/pseuds/afangirlsplaylist
Summary: The death of a loved one causes comedians Rhett and Link to tumble down the slippery slope of vigilante justice. Now justice-seeking serial killers by night, they have a whole new buddy system to explore.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WolfSpirit00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfSpirit00/gifts).



> Still working on my other fics so uhh… have this in the meantime? I know this has been done before but I wanted to dip my toes into horror. Remember we are dealing with messed up serial killer stuff here so please don’t read on without being prepared for severe depravity. This is entirely fictional horror.

**_Beginnings_ **

It was hard to pinpoint exactly how their ‘buddy system’ got to this place. This place of dirty vigilante justice they’d begun to enjoy more than they should. It was a slow and steady decline, yet not slow at all at the same time, tainting their souls. They could easily say they’d hit the point of no return the night of the first true hunt, but really it all came down to the bastard that killed Christy.

They tracked him down before the police ever could, with the sole purpose of delivering slow and painful vengeance to his door. Of course, there was never any question of Rhett joining Link, as his boiling blood and broken rage-filled heart came second only to his friends. They knew exactly how it would end as they stood there waiting for the man to open the door, two dark silhouettes standing almost as high as the door’s frame. They both thumbed the blades hidden at their sides while they waited, lovingly caressing them in fear and anticipation.   

In memory of Christy Link was given the honours that night, but Rhett made sure he got a turn in too - his steady slices a tribute to Link and Christy. It felt like an offering of blood in some sort of dark ceremony, which, he told himself, it kind of was. That was the first kill, and nothing had matched it since.

The early kills that followed were probably more reckless and amateur than they had to be if they were honest, as they experimented with finding a system that worked for them. Link initially used gloves, but soon stopped when he realized he loved the feeling of their breath on his hands. For a while Rhett missed the shiver of uneasy excitement he felt when Link snapped them on, associating the sight with the coming high. You would never hear him speak the words ‘favourite kills’, but the nights when they had the chance to work at their leisure in the studio? Those were probably among his. The thrill on Link’s face as he swept his bangs out of his eyes and laid the protective plastic over the room was contagious. 

**_The job_ **

The eyes of the cameras were kept far away from their work once night fell. At that time the desk that usually held a lot of vile food became home to a more delectable treat, namely a scared and writhing body. This was Link’s favourite.

Easily pinning the weakening arms of the victim above their head he would watch his 6 ft 7 accomplice tower over them from the other side. No matter what they would inevitably raise their pleading, teary eyes up to Link, who would simply smile and press a finger to his lips. Then they would try the same thing with Rhett, who would offer them no response at all. Taking all the rage he’d built up over whatever atrocities the person had committed, he would channel it into the thrusts of his blade, making a mess all over the desk and plastic. 

“You’re gonna stain the desk man.” Link would complain, pointing out where spots had missed the plastic. Carelessly dropping the victim’s arms he would wipe the blood off with a finger, sucking it into his mouth to clean it off. 

It was terrifying at first how easily the killing became a new dimension to their friendship. The studio, once a place reserved for laughs and work, was now part of something new. Instead of looking over amusing lists on their computers they prowled for fresh blood until it was as second nature to them as GMM research. It was something they shared more intimately than any of Rhett’s obsessive layers - bringing them closer than ever. Sleep was hardly a thing for them anymore, as nights were devoted to the hunt.

During the day it was usual for Stevie to find Link sitting cross-legged on the office couch, greeting her warmly while he polished his glasses. It was another story at the day’s end when Rhett would come to find him and be met with almost the same image, all except for the knife Link was now polishing instead, and the look of dead seriousness that had replaced the smile. The top buttons of his shirt would have been unbuttoned long ago, allowing his flushed neck room to breathe. Rhett was prone to not bothering with a shirt at all if the night’s party was to take place at the studio, figuring there was no use ruining a good shirt with blood.

But sometimes Rhett had no excuse for the shirtlessness, other than the emotions and adrenaline of the hunt sending his blood rushing to his cock. He found relief in Jessie, or, if too impatient and high to wait, his hand. Link, always wired, chose to find it in nightclubs and a number of nameless, beautiful girls enticed by his charm. Eventually, he’d even find it in the company of some guys as the hunt taught him more about himself. For them he reigned in the darkness, giving them a taste of his loving touches and deep kisses. That didn’t mean he was never rough (he knew how to take someone after all) but he embraced the chance to just enjoy for a while. After he’d had the fuck he needed he hardly bothered being careful walking down the club alleys. If some twisted loser tried to have a go he’d reign the darkness in no longer, taking further pleasure in destroying them. Even at the height of his pleasure, he’d never forget that their kind was the reason he was resorting to clubs in the first place, and they soon knew it. Rhett couldn’t help being a little pissy the mornings after these run-ins, demanding details and throwing himself into the next hunt. 

**_Play_ **

Like everything in their lives the hunt soon became a competition. The fastest kill, the slowest kill, the quickest cleanup - basically any criteria they could possibly come up with to make it one. Rhett’s idea of playing dirty was stealing Link’s favourite knives, while Link played dirty by cornering their victims before Rhett’s lanky legs could catch him. Whatever they did it always ended with them collapsing at the studio, breathing like they’d been _used_. They’d dink and sink a couple of strong beers, brushing the residue of the night right off each other’s shoulders. 

Now very familiar with the sadism his friend was capable of, Rhett would have thought Link would enjoy the slow kills more, but the shorter man might as well have been looking at his watch while he worked - muffling the screams when he grew tired of them. 

“I like a screamer but they are going to blow off my ears.” Link sighed, wincing as he tapped the side of his head to knock some sound back into it. 

“All the same to me.” Rhett said with a smile, happily taking the reigns on that round when Link handed him the night. 

He thought afterward how strange it was that he’d always been staunch about not letting Link have knives. Sure he was a hot mess when he wasn’t handling them seriously but on the job he was masterful. He knew just where to cut and bleed a person to achieve the effect he desired, torturing with precision when he chose to. It was a skill Rhett chose to keep as a treasure only for them, leaving it a secret in the dark. Still, he couldn’t help stealing an amused glance at Link across the table if his friend was over for dinner and happened to have the carving knife. 

**_The kill_ **

As the bigger and (though Link wouldn’t admit it) stronger of the two, Rhett was usually the one to hold the victims down. He took satisfaction in the way the assholes sagged against him, soon nothing but a weight on his chest as Link snapped their necks with a twist of his arm. 

Link, who always had OCD tendencies anyway, thrived in the clean up afterward. He stared at the way the fresh blood caked in his hair after a kill, marveling at how every matted lock was a reminder of his work. He would always wash his hands meticulously, but he took the time to enjoy the red on his skin for a while first, sometimes smearing the wet blood across his face and admiring the effect in the bathroom mirror.

The day he caught himself doing this was the day he realized just how much they’d come to like this. Not the act itself (that was a rush they could take or leave) no, it was the _taking_ they kept going back for. The primal feeling of power that roared within their chests. The sleeping ferocity in Rhett’s giant body relished the freedom it had been denied for so long, while the only child in Link loved to play with someone who had no choice but to submit. Rhett wouldn’t deny Link of that either, so he was more than happy to watch Link play with their prey like he wanted. 

Easily wrapping his large hand around the person’s entire neck, he’d watch Link smack them around, sometimes strangling them himself if he was feeling greedy enough to take the feeling for his own. In reality, it was probably more merciful than leaving them to Link, and if the victim was smart they would hope Rhett was feeling greedy. Sometimes, when he was really into the game, Link would run the smooth edge of the blade across the person’s chest, popping off shirt buttons one by one. It really depended on the night whether the victim would then get the relief of a knife to the chest or much, much worse.

When the ball was in his court Rhett preferred not to play most of the time. Not because he didn’t find any enjoyment in it, in fact, it was the greatest rush in the world to watch Link in the zone. No, he was just too in love with the high of the kill to have that kind of patience. 

The nights he loved taking charge of most were the rare trips they managed to make to the pasture rocks back home in NC. North Carolina was a small town and severely limited their choice of wretched souls, but they’d always find one to take, bringing them to the rocks for their last night. In this new dynamic there was no longer any talking involved with the rock system, and when it came to their victims there would never be talk again.

These were some of the only nights that Link watched, stretching out on the high rock and drinking in the scene like he was dying of thirst. Rhett would admit he showed off a little bit, using nothing but his size and strength for weapons as he silenced their victim for Link’s pleasure.

The streets of L.A were another thing entirely, the hunt becoming their twisted idea of a fun night out when they took to the streets. Pretty soon they’d developed a tactic for lulling their mark into a false sense of security; using Link’s winged hair, hot pink shirts and glasses to their advantage. The image presented such a delicious target to the assholes that they couldn’t resist swarming on him in a heartbeat. It was unfortunate for them that they couldn’t feel the heat of Link’s need as he itched for their blood, nor could they see the blown out pupils behind the glasses. More often than not they made the sorry mistake of spitting in his face or trying to fight - which they paid for dearly while he and Rhett destroyed them together, piece by piece. The mess would almost annoy them if it weren’t so satisfying.

As he hid in the shadows waiting for the oblivious victims to make their move, Rhett found himself half hoping that they would run their mouths at his friend in front of him. Every word and finger they laid on Link was yet another minute that Rhett would ensure they would be in hands, knife tearing into the flesh just far enough from the vital points to keep them alive until he decided otherwise. Judging from the fire in Link’s eyes as he wiped the spit from them Rhett knew he would be teasing his food before he ate it that night too.

**_Punishment_ **

They reserved the worst punishment for the lowest of the low, deciding that only an eye for an eye would suffice for rapists. These were the times they made sure to do their research, cherry picking the homophobes and pedophiles of the criminal world as the targets of their cruel justice. Link would insist they at least be attractive, to which Rhett would sigh and reiterate exactly what they were. The reminder was enough to reignite Link’s desire to _wreck_ the sick fucks, eagerly taking control out of Rhett’s hands. He took them all with vicious force, thrusting into them without mercy once he had them beneath him. Rhett would tell them they should be thankful they were going out this way, slitting their throats for good measure even though they’d already gone limp by the time Link was done with them.

Rhett would laugh at the disgusted face Link would sometimes make afterward, wiping his cum and blood stained hand on the dead man’s shirt. It didn’t really matter of course since the clothes would be burned and the body never seen again anyway, but he could trust Link to be more disturbed by the mess of it all than the actual murder. If someone was to ignore the blood, sweat, and heat they might have thought there was just a bad smell under his nose. It was definitely a humourous 180 from how he was when he was actually taking them, the animalistic _fucking_ quickly becoming one of Link's favourite ways to serve justice. These were the special cases that had the mingled honour and misfortune of his treatment, while fewer still got Rhett’s.

The way Rhett’s brand of punishment served Link’s was a dark combination, as he teased their defenseless mark until they were quivering. Using words or visuals he’d make sure they knew both what was coming to them and just how much they deserved each bit of it. 

“I may be the bigger man but it’s my friend here you gotta worry about.” Rhett taunted, crouching down to the victim’s level. “He’s feeling a little restless tonight and I’m thinking about letting him at you.”

Link confirmed his words as he spoke, passing a knife back and forth between his hands. He was practically drooling as he stared at the point he envisioned the man’s heart to be, his eyes soon roaming over the rest of his body. Ignoring the blade for now, he tucked it into the back of his waistband, stepping forward. 

“We got a pretty boy here.” Link hummed in appreciation, grabbing the victim by the chin and turning it from one side to another in his hand. “I like this one Rhett.”

“You should do. I picked him.” Rhett gloated.

Link rolled his eyes before busying himself with the task of roughly tearing the guy’s shirt apart, letting it fall to its rightful place at his feet. He took a second to flick a nipple before he went for the pants, fighting the guy’s resistance without much difficulty. He shoved the guy’s underwear down with them, leaving the man ready and exposed for his use.

Quickly getting a hand around the reluctantly hardening cock, Link squeezed it hard enough to make him squeal, smiling at the reaction he got as the victim tried to jerk away from him. In reality, all it did was press him back into Rhett, who threw him to the ground. 

Tugging the vulnerable ass higher into the air it wasn’t long before Link was practically tearing it apart, fucking him hard and raw. He was in the mood to cause pain, and he knew there was no place for lube or gentleness when it came to dealing with evil. 

The man was gone before Link had the chance to use the knife.

**_Suspicion_ **

Rhett knew when he married her that Jessie was far from a stupid woman, and it was inevitable that she would become suspicious after all those nights. At the end of the second week he’d laughed when she asked him straight up if he was cheating, and at the end of the third, he laughed even harder when she asked if it was Link. It wasn’t until the end of the month that he decided that slipping a sleeping pill into her evening teas was the safest decision. It was with regret that he did it but it was worth it for his service to the world.

Link didn’t have any such person to answer to anymore, but he did have three kids to protect from exactly the kind of people they were taking out. The mix of it all made him all the more dangerous.

Every night that Rhett picked Link up from his house he listened to the final instructions Link mumbled to the new nanny with a frown on his face. Every time he thought about asking Link if this was all worth the risk, until he realized that Link leaving the kids with someone who would have been Christy was probably the worst time in the world to ask. Part of him kicked himself for not asking anyway and the other half didn’t want to hear the answer. So not a word dropped from his lips as they drove off for the latest hunt.

He never wanted this to end.

**Author's Note:**

> Suggested listening: ‘Heathens’ by 21 pilots.
> 
> Ahem. well, this was a wild ride. I need to go cleanse my soul now bye. I need a lot of fluff right now.


End file.
